


Figuring It Out

by spaceghost



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Haise cooking master!, Haise ponders his past, Other, confusing feelings, squad bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7715044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceghost/pseuds/spaceghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to my past work "The Ones Who Cry". After receiving such positive feedback, I decided to create another story!</p><p>Thanks to Leonee for the inspiration. :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leonee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonee/gifts).



Haise squirmed in his seat, tapping his fingers on the hardwood table, trying to concentrate on the meeting. He couldn’t untwist the thoughts from last night. Images of Arima’s crying face and his hunched over position burned like fire in his mind. After burying his face in Haise’s shoulder and wailing, Arima had gazed up into the younger man’s face. A look of soft vulnerability bled through his eyes. It was something Haise had never seen before, like the sight of a tear in a wolf’s eye. This was a different Arima. It wasn’t the one that he sparred with or the one that he read with. It was the one that was hidden deep down below all those layers.  
  
Yet all Haise could think about was the closeness of Arima’s face and the way he felt the older man’s breath dancing across his lips.  
  
In the present, Haise touched a finger softly to his lips as he walked out of the conference room. As he did so, he felt the familiar slap on the shoulder of his mentee, Shirazu. “Yo, boss-leader, what’s up?”  
Haise jumped a little bit at the commotion.  
“Whoa, didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?”  
Haise turned and flashed a half-smile.  
“Sorry, must’ve been the meeting. I was sleepy.”  
Shirazu grinned,  
“Oh yeah? That’s right, Sassan, always working hard.”  
He echoed the last slap he’d left on Haise’s shoulder.  
“Well, right. I shouldn’t be distracting you. You’ve got a lot to do! See ya, Sassan!”  
Shirazu bolted off in the opposite direction, leaving as quickly as he appeared.  
  
Patting the spot his mentee slapped him on, Haise shook his head and chuckled. Oh, what an interesting group of people he decided to invite into his life. He smiled and wondered vaguely what he would make for tonight’s dinner. In the back of his mind, he could already see Saiko begging for something sweet, Urie and fighting over the largest portion, and Tooru, quietly waning into the background of the commotion. He sighed, shaking his head with a smile.  
  
As soon as he’d recovered from the attack, he drifted over to the break room, pouring himself a cup of coffee and pouring extra creamer and sugar into it. This was something characteristic about him, something that his mentees always pointed out about him. “Sugar and creamer? I’d always figured you a black kind of man.” “Sassan likes sweets! Like a little kid!” Haise was interrupted from his quiet reverie by a sharp intake of air.  
  
He startled awake and blinked his eyes. Standing in front of him was Hairu Ihei, clutching a coffee cup in two hands and smiling knowingly at him.  
“Hey, Haise.”  
She brought a finger to a strand of pink hair and flicked it away.  
“Uh, hey, didn’t expect to see you here, not with the Jack-O-Lantern case that recently sprung up.”  
Hairu flicked a finger, as if flicking away a fly.  
“Oh, right. That. It’s going.”  
She opened her dark eyes big, the dark sparkling in the light, and pushed her head toward him.  
“You seem...different, Haise.”  
Her eyebrow shot up into her hair.  
“What’s going on with you? Are you hiding something?”  
Haise squinted his eyes and pulled away, uneasy.  
“Uh, what makes you think that?”  
Hairu pushed him away.  
“Oh, just joking with you, Haise. Calm down,” she replied, flashed a smile in response.  
“Anyway, I’m taking off for the day. I’ll see you later,” she called disappearing out of the door.  
  
In the break room by himself, Haise exhaled a long breath. What was up with everybody today? No, it wasn’t everyone. It was him. Everyone was behaving normally, but he was the one spacing out and not paying attention. No matter where Haise looked, he swore he could see the dark eyes of Arima peering into his soul. Anyway, enough of that soul-peering mumbo jumbo. He had a job to do! Right, he had a job. Remembering his next meeting, Haise, scrambled in the direction, hoping he wasn’t late.  
Hours later, Haise emerged from the CCG’s headquarters and stepped to the side. He knew Arima would be coming out any minute and he wanted to talk to him. Or something. That’s right. Something. Haise swung his body from side to side, humming a tune, almost (but not really) trying to conceal his own nerves. As he stood, his mind wandered and all he could see was the closeness of Arima’s lips to his own. Hmm...that seems...nice. Warm...  
  
“Haise?”  
In the present, Haise squawked and jumped at the sound of his own name.  
“Ah...ah...oh-”  
Blinking up, he saw Arima’s face, puzzled and slightly concerned.  
“Oh, Arima, haha, how are you?, you see I’m just standing here an-”  
Cue Arima moving his face forward, dark eyes staring into Haise’s intently.  
“Uhhhhhhh,”  
“Hello, Haise.”  
A comforting smile from the older man.  
“Hello Arima!” Haise half-shouted, straightening up.  
Arima gave a half-concerned, half-perturbed look.  
“Are you ready to walk home?”  
“Of course!”  
  
The two walked side by side, strolling underneath the beautiful green and yellow leaves blooming above. To the right of them, bees busied themselves in the petals of a red hibiscus flower. Crickets chirped from all sides, and cicadas hummed. The world was quiet all at once again. Peace flowed through Haise’s body, and he let his muscles soften. Again, he was here, absorbing in the quiet atmosphere which renewed him.  
  
However, despite the peace, Haise couldn’t help but feel a question pushing at his lips. There was something that needed to be said. Why was Arima so calm? How could he walk so carefreely? Didn’t he know what he’d done to Haise last night? That bastard! Look at him, so smug...  
Haise broke away from his thoughts as they reached the intersection they parted ways at.  
“Well, it’s been nice walking with you, Arima.”  
Arima slightly nodded his head and offered a light smile.  
“As usual. Until next time, Haise.”  
  
As he strolled in the opposite direction, Haise let his shoulders slump in a heavy sigh. Although the walk had been pleasant and refreshing as usual, Haise could feel his stomach turn with an unfamiliar ease. Ugh. Must be the coffee. Or the Haise-specific meal he’d taken from Akira. Something like that. He let the thought slip out of his mind as he walked home in silence, anticipating the loud ruckus that would await him.  
  
Ever since he had been assigned his squad, they had been living in them in shared quarters, with a common room, kitchen, and five separate room. “For team bonding,” Marude had insisted with a sly smile. Haise knew what this meant: the squad was immature and needed classic “team bonding”, which often translated into squabbles, late nights, and cooking disasters. (In the end, Haise did the most cooking to avoid said disasters). Although Haise sighed in anticipation of his squad members, he smiled a bit. The time spent together had certainly been….something. Something to keep him young, the already young investigator convinced himself.  
Sure enough, as he walked into the large common room, he heard a large commotion.  
  
Saiko wailed, her top half cradling the game station in her arms.  
“Sassaaaaaan! Shirazu is hogging the playstation again!!”  
“It’s okay, Sassan! My turn’s almost over.”  
Haise melted at the loud noises.  
“Shirazu, you’ve been playing that too long. Don’t you think you have better things to use your mind on?”  
Shirazu frowned in embarrassment and shimmied away into the corner. Saiko delightedly grasped at the controllers and tossed herself into a bundle of blankets on the couch.  
“It’s my turn,” she murmured softly, already engrossed in the game.  
Haise walked into the middle of the room and sat down decidedly on the couch stretching himself out and rubbing his forehead.  
“Sassan?”  
He turned around to see Saiko’s round face staring at him.  
“You okay?”  
“Yeah, sure, don’t worry,” Haise offered, smiling an almost apologetic smile.  
“Hmm….Sassan, do you like someone?”  
Haise startled, pushing himself back into the orange plush cushions.  
“I knew it,” Saiko furrowed her brows and turned her mouth into a smug grin.  
“Who is it? Akira-chan? I think she’s too tough for you, Sassan. Is it Hairu? She’s kinda pretty, but a little strange, don’t you think?”  
Startled, Haise straightened up, muscles rigid.  
“Not Akira! She’s my mom!....So...uh why do you think that anyway?”  
“Well, every day after work, you come home with this almost rosy look, like a high-schooler who has a crush. You look flustered! I can tell, Sassan, I’m a pro!”  
From the corner, Shirazu grunted.  
“If you’re such a pro, then how come you don’t have a boyfriend, huh?”  
Saiko scowled in a perfectly melodramatic manner and screamed back.  
“Because...shut your dumb mouth, that’s why!”  
Tooru, quiet as a moth, emerged from the kitchen.  
“It’s true Sassan. I’ve noticed something different about you today. Ever since you got back from Mr. Kishou’s last night, you’ve been acting kinda strange.”  
Saiko and Shirazu’s eyes both lit up and they jumped forward.  
“Huuuu----h? Mr. Kishou, huh? What a tough pick!”  
Shirazu grinned and bent his head in a mock-thoughtful look.  
“Well, if it’s what you’re into, it’s what you’re into, boss!”  
Saiko’s eyes grew wide and she squeaked, pitch as high as a chipmunk.  
“DO YOU WANT OUR HELP?”  
By this time, Haise had shot up, arms blocking his body defensively.  
“No, no, no! This is inappropriate. You shouldn’t be asking your superior those kind of questions! This is inappropriate!”  
“Since when have we ever been appropriate?”  
Tooru whispered to no one in particular.  
Haise sat himself firmly down on the couch and crossed his arms.  
“That’s it. End of discussion! I should be making dinner right now, but instead I’m discussing useless things!”  
By now, Urie had quietly slithered his way into the room, his dark aura burning at the end of the room .  
“End of discussion, boss? It sounds important.”  
At the end of his mouth curled a sly smirk. Urie rarely participated in his team member’s antics, but had to admit that making his superior squirm was quite entertaining.  
Haise barked, with wilting determination.  
“Nothing, end of discussion! Now, Saiko, grab the spaghetti noodles! Urie, grab the tomatoes! Tooru, stop standing around and start a boiling pot! Shirazu! Shirazu…be supportive and encouraging!”  
  
Saiko groaned and let her arms drop like noodles. Urie stewed in his black rage and slithered over to the refrigerator. Tooru jumped up and immediately went to the cabinet. Shirazu yelled “Aye Aye, Captain!” and eagerly darted into his room to fetch his bongos.  
  
Ten minutes later, Haise stood chopping tomatoes, accompanied by the sound of Shirazu tapping his bongos. On the other side of the kitchen, Saiko sat beside Shirazu. “Don’t you know any real songs?” she breathed in disappointment, despite tapping her feet to the calming sound. Urie idled around the corner, reportedly “on the reserve” in case Haise needed some extra assistance. At Haise’s side, Tooru stood, chopping basil, humming an unknown tune. Haise inhaled softly and stood, drinking in the sound of the metal knife hitting the wood. It was times like this, Haise thought, when the team wasn’t squabbling, that he found peace.  
  
“So,” Tooru spoke, putting his hands to his hips. “Why spaghetti for tonight, Sassan?”  
Haise turned and smiled at the younger man.  
“No reason, today just felt like a special occasion. I wanted to try something different.”  
“Mm-hmm, I see.”  
“Cooking gives me a special peace. I can’t help but feel that I used to cook with someone special.”  
Haise stood and pondered.  
“I don’t really have memories of that, but I have the feeling of that.”  
He chuckled softly, a bit embarrassed.  
“Haise, I hope you don’t mind me asking….but, does it ever bother you that some parts of your life are missing?”  
Haise’s eyes darkened a bit and he focused on the silver glint from the knife in his hand.  
“Sometimes.”  
Tooru bowed his head a bit.  
“Because...I have those times, too. Times where I can’t remember stuff. I worry that…”  
Tooru felt the hand of the other man on his shoulder.  
“Don’t worry, Tooru,” He smiled.  
“Now are you finished with that basil?”  
“Oh uh,” Tooru blushed lightly. “Yeah, I am! Here you go, Sassan.”  
“Thanks,” Haise swept the basil into the tomato sauce he’d blended and stirred fervently.  
“Just focus on the present for now.”  


■

After saying goodnight to his squad members, showering, and throwing his exhausted body into bed, Haise lay, staring at the ceiling. He stared for what seemed like hours, his mind drifting over to his conversation with Tooru. Did it bother him that he couldn’t remember things? Who had he been before? Had he been that different? And how come he got the feeling that Arima was holding these things from him? Maybe it was for his protection. But did he really want to be protected?  
  
As these thoughts sloshed around in his brain, a sharp pain broke out behind his eyes. Ugh, here it came again. Whenever he dared to recall the past, his body and mind lashed out at him in punishment, chanting for violence, calling for blood. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hate. Hate. Hate. Squeezing his eyes shut, Haise curled up in a ball and slowed his breathing, trying to ground himself. Haise Sasaki. Rank 3 investigator. 22 years old. Human. Human? Ghoul? Human. Right. He made his mind a blank slate and concentrated on the cotton fibers clinging to his skin.  
As Haise calmed, he wiped the sweat from his brow and sat up. Did it really matter? Didn’t he want to live happily in his perfect life? He had subordinates, caring coworkers, and a promising career path. He didn’t need his other life. He was fine as he was. Thinking these thoughts, he laid back on the pillow and pulled the covers over his body. As the exhaustion of the struggle waned, Haise let himself succumb to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

As the sun rose outside, Saiko silently slipped around the crowded apartment (The Chateau, they called it. Saiko rolled her eyes internally), making a stop at Tooru’s door. She knocked quietly.  
“Tooru!” She hissed. “Let me in!”  
She was met with the tired and familiar face of Tooru, whose eyes sagged with exhaustion.  
Tooru grumbled. “What do you want?”  
“Just a little of your time,” Saiko breathed as she slipped herself in between Tooru and the door.  
She sat down comfortably on the rug in the center of the room and patted the spot next to her. Reluctantly, Tooru moved over and took a seat next to Saiko, hugging a blanket over his shoulders.  
“Soooo, Tooru. I think we should do something for Sassan.”  
“I’m listening.”  
“He is TOTALLY in love with Mr. Kishou. I know it! I can hardly blame him. Mr. Arima is so tall, mysterious and dreamy.”  
She spoke quieter.  
“Not unlike Prince Hiro in Dream Palace 2.”  
She chuckled a bit, appreciating her own reference.  
“Hmm…..I see.”  
Tooru shifted.  
“So what are you suggesting we do?”  
“Well,” Saiko pressed her hands together, a mischievous smile on her face “I think we should set up a date for him!”  
“What-? A Date!? Saiko, I don’t feel comfortable meddling with other people’s affairs.”  
Saiko pouted and dragged her palms down her face.  
“Aw, come on! We’ll be doing something nice for him. Think of how much he’s helped us--he’s helped you. We have to do something in return!”  
Tooru folded his arms, and closed his eyes.  
“I don’t know….”  
“Come on, it’ll be fun!”  
“Well, I don’t think anything bad can come of it...:”  
Saiko clapped her hands in glee.  
“Hooray! Now, let me tell you my plan…” 

■

Haise sat in front of his inactive computer, palms pressed to his eyes, a cup of coffee resting by his elbow. He’d barely slept the night before. All night, he’d been tossing and turning, visions of Arima’s face, streaked with red. And when Haise had peered down at his palms, they were covered in blood. His hands. His own hands. And Arima would beg him, on his hands and knees, to spare him. Ugh. He wished he could get such a horrible dream out of his mind. 

Deciding finally to distract himself, Haise scooped up the pile of papers on his desk and stacked them, concentrating on the crispness of the corners. He was fine. He was here. He wasn’t hurting anyone. He wasn’t hurting anyone. Haise recalled this is what he told himself when he was inflicting pain upon ghouls during several of his missions. He’d told himself, like many of the ghoul investigators told him, that ghouls weren’t humans. They couldn’t feel pain like humans could. But he knew this pain when he gazed into their eyes, when he saw the panic, when he saw the fear. 

Ghouls couldn’t feel pain. But? What about him? He had been a ghoul. Yet his purpose was to restrain and inflict pain on ghouls. But it was for the goodness of society, right? It was to protect others. Right. When left alone, Haise couldn’t help but let his mind wander onto the topics that ran in the background of his brain. 

Haise was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.  
“Haise?”  
Haise swiveled to face the door, and wiped his right eye with his knuckle.  
A tall, older man stood in the doorway, his white hair mirroring the sting of the fluorescent light. Arima’s eyes softened as they fell upon him.  
“Long night, huh?”  
Haise nodded, slowly and quietly. He let out a laugh.  
“Something like that.”  
Arima chuckled.  
“Well, don’t let yourself get too tired.You haven’t had an active case in two weeks.”  
Haise smiled, slightly embarrassed.  
“Yes, sir, yes sir. I’m doing my best.”  
Arima echoed his smile.  
“Well, I just came by to check on you. We didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday.”  
Haise’s shoulders tensed up and he lowered his head. What was this? What this it? Haise squeezed his fist tight on his lap. He brought his head up to make eye contact with Arima.  
“Arima….are you...okay? I was worried about you and-”  
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I was just…” He trailed off, “..having an off day. I’m sorry if I did anything to confuse you.”  
Once again, Haise imagined Arima’s lips, parted, slightly twitching, and hovering before his own.  
“Okay….confuse? Confuse me?”  
He coughed out a hollow laugh and rubbed the back of his head.  
“Don’t worry, Arima! Nothing you do can make you less of a superior to me! I respect you.”  
Arima’s eyes, turning a dull black, met Haise’s for a brief, meaningful moment.  
“Yes, once again I apologize. I’m glad to hear you think no different of me.”  
He turned and wrapped on the door with his knuckle before exiting.  
“Glad to hear it. I’ll talk to you later.” 

As soon as the door shut behind Arima, Haise raised his clenched fists and slammed them down on the table, hard. Ignoring the stinging in his fists, Haise buried his head in his folded arms. He wanted to scream, but all he could let out was a soft whimper, a quiet vulnerable sound. 

■

All throughout the rest of the day, Haise’s shoulders slumped and he pouted (although subtly, he’d checked in the mirror). At lunch time, he staggered into a chair in the common eating area, slightly disgusted and unnerved by all the cheerful staff members who fluttered about the area. Haise pulled out his lunch box and pulled out a black box filled with a prepared meal, the one’s he gotten from the CCG, and the ones that filled his refrigerator top to bottom. (“Sassan, why do you always have to eat from those boxes? They look disgusting.” “It’s because I’m special, Saiko. It’s because I’m special.”) After he peeled the plastic covering off his dish, he stared blankly at the concents--which, did, in fact, never fail to look disgusting. (“Imagine shit. Now imagine puree’d shit mixed with toxic waste and blood,” Shirazu proudly described to the Quinx group.) 

He stared at this mess until Akira slid into the seat across from him effortlessly, pulling out a blue bento box and, snapping her chopsticks open, digging into her meal. Haise peered at her bleakly, emphasizing his sadness.  
“What’s wrong with you? You look like a dead fish.”  
Haise only frowned harder, and dramatically slammed his head into the table, garnering stares from surrounding staff.  
“Nothing.”  
“Aw, come on. You can tell me. If you don’t, I’m gonna leave you to sulk here alone.”  
Haise sat straight up.  
“It’s a girl, isn’t it?” Akira poked her chopsticks at him, chewing on a bit of yellow tail.  
Haise only melted further into his seat.  
“Lemme guess, you tried to woo her with your innocent charm and she rejected you? It’s going to happen, Haise. Let me tell you--you have to get over it! And don’t sell yourself short! You’ve got things going for you, you know.”  
She offered a sympathetic smile, one betrayed by her sharp eyebrows and firm tone of voice.  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
Haise supported his chin on one elbow. He let a pause drag out.  
“Now can I have a hug?”  
Without blinking, Akira spoke bruskly, “No. You’ll have to hug yourself, Haise.”  
Haise’s face fell and he slumped further into his chair.  
Snapping her bento box closed, Akira rose from the table and walked around to Haise. She patted him mechanically on the back.  
“Don’t worry! Just keep your head up.”  
And with that, she had disappeared. 

■

After a rather uneventful day, Haise entered the Chateau to see the only Saiko casually lounging on the large plush couches in the common room.  
Without peering up from her handheld console, she saluted and said, “Hey Sassan.”  
Haise walked over, and threw himself down beside her.  
“Hey, Saiko.”  
She peered over at him, head tilted slightly. “What’s wrong, Sassan? Tired from work?”  
Haise only peered at her and offered her a smile, intending to keep up a good facade while around his mentee. “No...yes. Well, something like that.”  
She slid over closer, and took a lock of his hair, brushing it softly. “Aww, tell me about it.”  
Haise paused, not sure whether to share such information with his subordinate. Especially since the information was about Arima. Well, she already knew, didn’t she? Would it really hurt? 

“You know Arima, right?” Saiko’s mouth curled up in a grin.  
“Mr. Kishou? Yeah, of course I know him, Sassan.”  
Haise shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you know I like him. And...well, yesterday, well, I-saw a side of him I’d never seen before.”  
Saiko nodded and began braiding Haise’s hair. “And today, when he saw me, he told me that he didn’t want to ‘confuse’ me yesterday. But he was so close to me, Saiko! So close. I could feel his breath on my face.”  
Saiko scrunched up her nose. “Ew, sounds creepy.”  
Haise exhaled. “It wasn’t like that! We were just...well, physically close, and I felt something between us. Like he had wanted that and didn’t know how to ask for it.”  
Saiko’s right hand combed through Haise’s locks of hair.  
“Well, Mr. Kishou is a pretty mysterious man. He seems like the type of man to have secrets. Don’t you think?”  
Haise let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t mean he gets say stuff like that!”  
Saiko stroked her chin with a finger.  
“Hmm….I see well. In Tragic Journey: The Sequel, there’s a man just like Mr. Kishou! He’s strong and stoic and he doesn’t like to show his emotions. And there’s a beautiful woman who’s in love with him! But because the man is so outwardly strong, he refuses all the woman’s attempts to get close to him. But he loves her! He really does. He just doesn’t know how how to show emotions.”  
She let out a triumphant huff.  
“And I think Mr. Kishou’s exactly like that!” 

Haise pondered this, picturing Arima as a rough and tumble kind of guy, a muscular and fragile man who pushed away all his suitors. And he? He was the beautiful woman, he’d supposed. That wasn’t too far from the truth, Haise thought, remembering wanting Arima’s gaze upon him. He stood up, his two perfectly done braids swinging from his head. “You’re right, Saiko! So he must like me! I think. I hope.”  
Saiko pressed her hands together, a mock sweet smile plastered on her face.  
“Well, that’s great, Sassan! Because I have a date set up for tomorrow for you two!”  
Haise swung around, eyes wide.  
“You what-??”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! Just started grad school about a month ago. I've been pretty busy and tired. 
> 
> I wanted to fit more into this chapter, but at this point, I just wanna post it.

Haise awoke and stared at the ceiling, a mix of blue and green. He recalled the events of the night before.

“I got you a date, Sassan,” Saiko said with a quick smile.  
“You WHAT-?” Haise choked.  
“Arima and you. You know. Together.” She held up her two fingers, which were crossed.  
“Aren’t you happy?”

Was he happy? Although Haise thought he had resolved his feelings about Arima, he felt stretched in two directions. One direction was one of complete rapture over the taller man, who struck enemies with speed and grace. However the other direction, was confusion and anger. How could he just do that? And with no change in expression either. I knew it. He’s tired of me. Why would he want a junior agent? Especially one who’d been a ghoul. He rolled over in bed and placed his palms over his ears, as if trying to drown out his own voice.

He showed interest in you.

Haise rolled up to face the ceiling and studied it, as if it could produce an answer.

He was the one that picked you up when you were a ghoul. He’s the one that chose you.

His little voice was right. Arima thought he was special. Or else he wouldn’t have chose Haise to begin with. That’s right. Haise. A junior agent. A former ghoul. Yes. He did.

Hmm.

■

Haise hummed as he swirled an egg around in a pan. The air around him was clean, his shirt was crisp, and his hair combed. All was right. 

Saiko dragged herself out of her room and practically threw herself on one of the stools. 

“‘Morning.” 

Haise peered over and flashed an eager smile.

“Good morning, Saiko.”

“You’re never up this early, Sassan. What’s the deal? You woke me up.”

“Aww, come on, you can’t tell me you’re not happy to feast on one of the Great Haise Sasaki’s meals!”

Haise closed his eyes and imagined himself flinging the egg into the air, and catching it perfectly. The Quinx’s around him applauded and so did Akira and his superiors. Akira stepped forward and smiled warmly, with open arms. He hugged her and stepped back. Arima stepped forward next and bent one knee. He popped open a small box he held in his palm.

“Haise….will you-”

“SASSAN!” 

His reverie was interrupted by the smell of burning food. Haise scrunched up his nose and winced. He peered down at the pan he was holding; the white egg, lined with burnt edges stuck glumly to the pan. 

He frowned. 

After peeling the burnt egg off the pan, making a new one, and serving Saiko, Haise stepped out the door, leaning his head in. 

“Bye, Saiko!”

She waved from the couch, and Haise moved forward, legs pumping and heart beating fast.

As he walked to the bus stop--his and Arima’s meeting place--he wondered to himself.

What would he say? How would he make conversation? Did he have to worry?

Minutes later, he found himself at the bus stop, the one where Arima and himself always parted ways. He sat down on the hard bench and folded his hands in his lap, trying his best not to look apprehensive.

At home, Saiko banged on the doors of all the Quinxes. 

“WAKE UP EVERYONE! GROUP MEETING!”

In his bedroom, Shirazu groaned. Saiko, the young woman who spent all her time sleeping and playing video games, had become more active in the past couple of days. Ever since Haise had admitted his crush on Arima. Shirazu just didn’t get it.

Tooru stretched an arm over his head and yawned, pushing the door open.

Urie sat in bed, seething that someone had dared to drag him out of bed at an ungodly hour. On the weekend too! 

In the living room, Saiko stood with her hands on her hips.

“Okay, everyone. Thank you for gathering. We are all here because of Haise.”  
She eyed an empty seat where Urie should have been. 

“Today, he has a date--which I arranged--with the deadly, the handsome, the one and only Mr. Kishou!” 

Shirazu, who hadn’t been included in the plan, dropped open his mouth like a drawbridge. 

“Are you serious, Saiko!? Did you really take what Sassan said seriously?” 

Saiko narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean.”

“He said he liked Mr. Kishou, but as a friend. Man, come on!”

He slid his hand down his face.

“Man, seriously, Sassan’s not gay!”

Saiko folded her arms and proudly announced, “It doesn’t matter what Sassan is. He’s our boss and we’ve gotta help him!” 

Shirazu sighed and slumped his shoulders down.

“Sure, whatever, man.” 

Saiko puffed up her chest.

“Anyway! Back to the discussion. Sassan has a date today in Fun Land with Mr. Kishou. And we-” she pointed to herself, “-are gonna help him!”

Torru raised his hand, a doubtful expression on his face.

“And how are we going to do that exactly?” 

Saiko’s mouth folded up in a fox-like grin.

“We...are going to follow him! Now who’s in?”

Back at the bus stop, Haise fidgeted, yanking the skin off his cuticles. He peered down at his fingers, noticing a red drop of blood forming. He shuddered at his bad habit and pressed down on his cut. 

“Come on! Why do I have to do this! Seriously? I’m here trying to look good for Arima and--”

“Haise?” 

His speech was interrupted by Arima, who stood tall over him in a cap and cargo shorts. Not again! At the worst moments, Haise thought. 

“Are you bleeding?” 

Arima bent down to peer at Haise’s finger.

“Ohhhh. Don’t worry, it’s nothing, Arima.”

He felt himself turning red as the older man bent down close, his face only inches away from Haise’s. Arima pulled out a tissue and wrapped it around Haise’s finger, squeezing it tight. 

Haise felt goosebumps popping up on his skin.

“That’s better.” 

Arima smiled at him and rose. He peered down the street as Haise tried to regain composure.

“The bus is on its way. Are you ready for today?” 

He asked, almost a rhetorical question, as though he was unsure if he himself was ready for the day.

 

Haise shook his head firmly and tried to look more confident than he felt.

“Of course, Arima.” 

He rose and stood beside the other man.

Arima smiled.

“Good,” he said, and took Haise’s hand in his.

As he did so, he peered at Haise and gave a crooked, uneasy smile, his eyes questioning if Haise was okay with the action.

Haise was okay.

Haise was more than okay. 

Electricity streaked through his body, zapping his toes and fingers. What was this? As he asked himself, his mind speedily tried to connect his current experience against all other similar experiences in his short life. There wasn’t any, except for a blurry memory of a young purple haired woman. She smiled and Haise saw blood, blood everywhere. He gripped his abdomen with his hand and jolted his forward, yanking his hand out of Arima’s. 

Before he knew it, he was bleeding, red pooling at his feet and spreading outward. 

“No…no,” he breathed, stumbling back. 

Arima moved swiftly and appeared behind Haise, catching him against his larger frame. 

Arima pulled Haise toward the bench and lay Haise down gently. 

He squatted and peered at the younger man. 

“What did you see?” he whispered.

Haise’s eyes were wide as marbles, staring straight up into the sky. 

His lips moved.

“Blood.” 

Arima moved closer and whispered.

“Haise. There is no blood. You are not bleeding. You are safe. I am here.” 

Haise curled up on the bench, and the world turned black.

■

He awoke to a soft breeze on his cheeks, and a firm shape under his head. His hair was being stroked softly. Haise peered up. Arima’s face, twisted with worry, peered down. 

“Haise.”

The single word, his name, brought Haise back into the world. The sun beat down on his face as his legs hung over the edges of the bench. Sweat clung to his back and neck, dampening his collar. 

“Arima….I’m sorry.”. 

“Sorry for what? You did nothing wrong, Haise.”

“No, no, I ruined this date. It was supposed to be fun and here I am, out cold on the bench and-”

“Haise.” 

The younger man stopped speaking.

“It’s okay. You were only out for a little while. We can still go. Besides, don’t worry at all. I know it’s not something you can control.”

As the older man spoke, he reluctantly remembered all the times that the young man’s facade had collapsed, leaving him exposed to the black and tarry feelings that overwhelmed him.

Haise smiled an uncertain smile. 

“Okay. Let’s go.”

As the two rode on the bus, side by side, silence filled the air. What was he supposed to talk about, to say? He felt like he’d already did something wrong. 

Haise cleared his throat.

“Um, Arima.”

“Yes?”

“I liked it when you held my hand earlier.”

He smiled shyly. 

“It was really nice.”

Arima reflected the warm smile back and let his hand wander until it found its smaller companion.  
As the two palms pressed together, Haise felt the darkness come back and blood crept its way into his vision. No! No! He squeezed his eyes shut and imagined swinging a baton, knocking all the bad thoughts away.  
“Is something the matter?

Arima peered curiously at Haise again.

“No- um- I was just thinking about….”

Long pause.

“How excited I am to be on this date!”

Arima chuckled and replied.

“Well, if that’s what you say...just know you can be honest with me, Haise.”

Drat! He’d been found out. Haise’s cheeks burned.

“O-okay! Sure, I will be honest from now on!”

Arima smiled, slightly embarrassed at the younger man’s blunt nature.

“So-uh-What’s your favorite ride, Arima?” 

Arima tapped his chin and thought. 

“I would have to say the ferris wheel. It’s very calming. And it can be romantic.”

His left eye glimmered.

“Ah, ah, yeah me too! It’s very relaxing-” 

As the conversation progressed, Haise began to feel more comfortable, his body relaxing and his shoulders untensing. The pair laughed and joked and talked excitedly about the park. 

When they finally arrived, electricity was pulsing through the air, the pair holding hands effortlessly and bumping into one another with affection. The first ride they bolted toward--naturally--was the ferris wheel, where Haise leaned on Arima’s shoulder, smiling up at the other man. 

As he spun around, however, he couldn’t help but feel he was being watched.

And he was.

Saiko squinted out of the bushes, Tooru and Shirazu hiding behind her. 

She whispered, “It looks like it’s going very well, but they have yet to witness the greatness of the Quinx Squad.”

Shirazu, mustering up enthusiasm, nodded and pumped his fist.

Tooru, reminisced; How did he get here?, he asked himself. 

“So, what are we gonna do?” 

“First, we need to make sure they get on The Hurricane, not the baby Mountain Climb. Haise has to be scared! So he can cling to Arima for support…”  
“Good thinking,” whispered Shirazu. 

The threesome marched over the Mountain Climb.

Saiko opened her mouth to the attendant, and patted Tooru on the back.

“So will my little cousin here be able to ride? He’s short, but he can fit.”

Tooru pouted up at the attendant, trying to look as small as possible.

Meanwhile, Shirazu hopped the fence. 

“Quinque, activate!” 

His quinque shot out of him, the tendril twisting menacingly. 

He lifted his arms in exaggerated expression, “ATTACK!” 

His Quinque shot out and crashed into the moving ride, derailing the empty carts. Shirazu grinned satisfactorily. 

“HEY!” 

Shriazu peered over.

“YOU! YEAH, YOU! GET BACK HERE!”

A burly looking man in a park uniform stood at the gate of the ride.

Shirazu’s eyes widened. 

“Oh shit.”

He recalled Saiko’s voice. 

Saiko crossed her arms in an X. 

“Remember, you can’t hurt a civilian! It’s against the rules!” 

Shirazu groaned a slid his palm down his face. 

He threw his arms up in mock excitement and propped himself up on his quinque, bouncing himself over the gate, where he bent his knees and sped away. The burly man groaned, “Kids these days..” and stormed off after Shirazu. 

From the front of the gate, Saiko clasped her hands together with joy. 

“All right, Tooru. That was the signal. Now let’s get down to it!”

Tooru raised an eyebrow, but uttered no response. 

Meanwhile, Shirazu plowed through all the rides, knocking carts of tracks, toppling over large loops, scattering park-goers. 

Saiko slapped a palm to her forehead as she watched Shirazu’s reign of destruction. 

“What is wrong with him? Seriously, he was only supposed to destroy one ride.”

Meanwhile Shirazu grinned at the destruction that ensued, enlivened by the adrenaline rushing through his veins. 

"YEAHHH! IT'S ALL FOR YOU SASSAN!"

Somewhere at the top of the ferris wheel, Haise’s ears perked up. Hmm...he could have sworn he heard...Shirazu? Was that right? The young man’s scream had become something he regularly heard throughout the household, whether it be him yelping at cold water in the shower or raising his voice with Urie. 

Arima noticed Haise’s faraway look and interjected. 

“Is something wrong, Haise?”

Haise smiled, embarrassed. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I just….I just thought I heard Shirazu screaming. Pretty weird huh?”

Arima smiled and wrapped his arm around Haise, squeezing his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re here to have fun. You’re probably just worried about your squad. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine.” 

Haise pressed a finger to his chin. 

“Hmm, I guess. If you say so.”


End file.
